Skeleton Key
by Cody Saoyrn
Summary: His was the quintessential analogy to the myth of Tantalus: whenever he seemed within reach of having what he most desired, it was taken away. Pegasus POV, vague m/m.


**Skeleton Key**

by Cody Saoyrn

* * *

His was the quintessential analogy to the myth of Tantalus—whenever he seemed within reach of having what he most desired, it was taken away. It was the closest he had ever been; even late at night, his fantasies twisted by the wine, he hadn't ever thought he would come to be standing in front of his living dream.

Here they were, though. For some reason, a tune titled 'Silver and Gold' began running through his mind, even though Kaiba's hair wasn't anything like either of those precious metals. How silly of me, Pegasus thought, getting carried away by such a cold and unfeeling man. No, child. A man would never be so openly passionate. He was about to hesitantly disagree with himself and would have dragged the silence out further, had Crocketts not spoken.

"Sir, what do you want me to do?"

Pegasus sighed, his trance broken. Tilting his head, he ran his long fingers through his hair in an ostensibly casual manner. It would not do for Crocketts to know of his employer's newest incapacitating obsession—the man already knew too much.

"Leave him with me," Pegasus murmured. "I'll take care of him for now."

Crocketts nodded and walked away, the click of his shoes loud in the grand hall. Pegasus chuckled derisively, more at himself than at his subordinate. The castle, the sprawling fortress, the whole island—he had them practically all to himself, and for what? He had the finest foods imported, the most expensive fabrics, furniture, clothing all delivered by plane, and his electronics were all top-of-the-line. As much as he knew, however, that the display of power by wealth verged on the ridiculous, he couldn't bring himself to stop. Power attracts power, he told himself over and over. And look: I've attracted the power I wanted.

Except the power was now gone. Kaiba's blue eyes, once bright with dominance and determination, had become an unresponsive grey. His aloof expression, practically a KaibaCorp trademark, had slackened into a blank and almost confused look. Technically speaking, Pegasus had succeeded in winning both Kaiba's body and mind, but they were useless when separated. What was the point in controlling the body if it would not respond?

He moved closer to Kaiba's shell (that phrase made him wince, but it was true) and walked around it, taking advantage of the moment to study the boy's empty body. Tenderly, as though he were helping a lover, he pulled Kaiba's long blue jacket off and dropped it on the floor. Pegasus reached out and laid a slightly trembling hand on Kaiba's chest, but there was no response. Not that he had been expecting one, but…Actually, he kind of had been hoping for a gasp, a shout, a slap, something.

I have to start being more honest with myself, Pegasus thought. Then he laughed, loudly enough to startle himself. How amusing, to think that he could be anything other than deceitful. After all, he didn't get this far in the world by being truthful. He left that kind of frivolity to lesser people, more innocent people like Yuugi and that circle of friends. Kaiba would understand.

That is, Kaiba would understand were he not currently…otherwise occupied. Yes, Pegasus decided, that sounds better. No, it sounds idiotic and vapid. Unwilling to have a fight with himself, Pegasus shook his head and resumed examining the newest addition to his collection of souls. Stroking Kaiba's cheek, he gently tilted the boy's face up so he could more easily look into those wide, blue eyes. On a whim, he turned to follow the direction of Kaiba's blank stare and caught sight of one of the many large portraits of Cyndia scattered throughout his castle.

Ah, Cyndia. Pegasus closed his eyes, unwilling to confront this reminder of what he had once been. He had resurrected her ghost and captured it with a multitude of the brightest paints, only to put it aside for somebody even more vibrant, more alive. His mind, split ever since he had received the Eye, argued with itself that this was just a rebound and he was naturally drawn to those with innate authority, such as natural-born or self-made aristocrats—but if this was simply a rebound, why not another girl?

Abandoning that line of thought, Pegasus returned his gaze to Kaiba's pale face as he slid his hand down to the boy's shoulder. Really, it could be suggested that Kaiba was feminine enough with his long brown hair and eyelashes, thin frame, and soft skin—

"Excuse me, sir. Did you want a personal key?"

Startled by Crocketts's sudden appearance, Pegasus yanked his hand out of Kaiba's shirt (when did it get there?) and stepped away, crossing his arms. Pegasus didn't see Crocketts avert his eyes—whether out of distaste or subservience, even Crocketts himself wasn't sure—but Pegasus could sense the vague discomfort that his manservant always brought into the room these days.

"It's so kind of you to check, Crocketts, but have you forgotten that I already have a universal key?" Pegasus drawled, trying hard to sound as carelessly playful as he usually did.

Crocketts bowed, keeping his eyes fixed on Cyndia's portrait on the wall behind his employer. Straightening back up with a clack of his heels, he took a deep breath before answering.

"I merely wanted to be sure, sir. I had thought that you might want to treat your newest guest..." The slightest pause, and Pegasus's visible eye flashed. "…Differently."

"That will be all, Crocketts. One more word from you and you're dismissed for today," Pegasus said, the chill in his voice like a punch to the gut. "And possibly longer. Get out."

Bowing once more, Crocketts left without looking back. Once the manservant had closed the gallery doors behind him, Pegasus knelt to pick up Kaiba's jacket. He rose quickly, his knuckles white around the smooth fabric, and turned once more to Kaiba.

Not yet looking directly at the boy, Pegasus used his free hand to pull the skeleton key out of his breast pocket. He turned it over and around with his long fingers, the old-fashioned metal flashing in the chandelier light.

The tale of Tantalus, while beautifully dramatic, was not quite right for him, Pegasus decided. There was more to the story than most people remembered, and he would rather not associate himself with those brutal details. A more suitable comparison, he thought as he watched the delicate fluttering of Kaiba's eyelashes, lay in the way he had managed to refit himself into these ever-changing situations, to twist and turn like a skeleton key.

No matter what the future held, for him and this boy, Pegasus felt sure that somehow in the end he would make it through. Love apart, he had thus far been able to avoid the downfall of so many great people: to be blinded by passion.

He would remember these thoughts as Bakura plunged a knife into his skull.


End file.
